Prophecy of the Forgotten
by Anutheal
Summary: Grace of a Demon Continuation: With the aftermath of the war and the responsabilities of being the soul leader of the Four Worlds; Severus struggles with inner tormoils and fights to learn how to trust again. SSHG friendship, very little SSOFC
1. Remorse

**Authors Note:** Yes, I am alive. I finally just gave up on expecting alerts so I changed my email and now my alerts are working again. waves victory flag Thanks to everyone who has stuck with me. I hope you like this story as much as you liked the last. I did leave you all on a cliffy after all …

**The Prophecy of the Forgotten**

**Chapter 1**

**Remorse**

The skies were bright, a blanket of serenity draping itself around the peaks of the castle, bleak and dark against the setting sun. The whole image held a feeling of numbness. The simplicity of the human mind unable to comprehend what happened, what had ended, what was finally over. This war had lasted so long; the body was still going through the motions, the paranoia … the fear. Even with the physical evidence, lying burning in front of them, they still felt that darkness creeping into their minds, eating away at all the goodness of life, the joy of their times.

Even she still sat there, but maybe she was there for the wrong reason. She was barely aware of Darrow, lifting his body out of her arms, his still cold body – newly acquainted with Death, she wasn't aware of the strong arms leading her to her feet.

Her own unsteady trembling hands still tainted with his blood, clutching the blanket's edge that found its way around her shoulders. She could see him now, lying limp on the stretcher, Demon medics working desperately to stop the blood that slid down pail fingers … magic fingers. He was moaning, the only indication that he was in pain, keeping him away from the dark abyss of unconsciousness.

She wanted to scream at them, tell them to stop hurting him; he had been through enough pain.

Her shoulders heaved in dry sobs.

Tears threatened to spill over as she stumbled after the stretcher … her best friend … his only friend, "I'm so sorry," she couldn't save him. She should have been able to, but she couldn't save him, "I'm sorry."

…….

She found him staring at his enemy's lifeless body, emerald eyes bright with an unidentifiable emotion, an almost puzzled frown gracing his lips. Not a few feet behind him his best friend stood, not speaking either, eyes traveling over dead enemies … dead comrades.

"It's hard to believe it's over isn't it?"

"Six years of fighting and it's over in one night."

Harry still hadn't said anything, but slowly … very slowly, he bent down, reaching out towards the burning body, slipping his hand through a gap in the flames, his trembling fingers found its way around slender, dark wood. The murderous weapon pried out of cold, dead fingers. Straightening, Harry held the wand limply in his hand, starting at it. Then as if horrified he snapped it in half and chucked it back into the flames, watching – fascinated – as they flashed a rainbow of colors.

"It's goin' ta be hard ter let it go, i'n't it, 'arry?" a large warm hand was placed on his trembling shoulders, Hagrid's gruff voice breaking through the heavy silence, "'arry?"

"No … I don't think it will be hard at all."

………

He was afraid – afraid for his life. His father laid bleeding before him; the demon blade having cut through his shield and ripping the life out of the already heartless body.

"You … are a traitor … Draco,"

He watched through blurred, angry eyes as the blood pooled around his blonde hair, the cane he used against his own son, broken at this side.

Draco smiled, "no father – you are."

………

She cried. Desperate sobs, wracking her body as she gasped for breathe between each pathetic heave of her shoulders. Gentle hands pressed a cup to her lips, the bitter liquid slipping down her throat – calming her immediately.

"Would you like to stay with him, dear?" the kindly old nurse smiled sadly and didn't bother to wait for an answer as a cup of warm tea was shoved into her shaky hands.

Lea just sat there, eyes wide with horror and border line morbid fascination as the tunic was ripped from his chest baring scarred, tortured flesh. She was almost pleased to see Poppy flinch at the thin quite lines, raised welts on pale, cool skin. She held his hand as he moaned in pain, "you can't leave me again," she sounded deadly calm as she slipped into her own language, her tone barely above a murmur, "I never told you how much I missed you when you left the first time. I cried myself to sleep for almost a month after.

"I thought I'd never see you again. We were only six when we first met, but even then I let you take my hand and sweep me off my feet, even back when we were young you were protecting me, I think that's when I first realized how much I cared for you …"

………

_It was only dawn when the stewardess called for them. Technically, the Prince shouldn't have been going with them, but they were a trio, where one went the others followed – like a never ending game of_ Following the Leader_. The team was just the three of them: Ash, Lea and Darrow – the Golden Trio – Elemental, Wind and Bird, an interesting group to say the least._

_Their mission was simple – a Water Demon carrying a copy of the Scroll of the Nine Spells was needed to be recovered. The scroll was easy enough, he was inept to say the least, and through it at them, and then he blew himself (and three houses) up., intending to take the prince with him; he almost did. Even as they went flying through the debris-ridden air he kept his arms securely around her and even as they landed – the walls (or what was left of them) crashing into his back., he kept her head tucked under his chin and even as he went limp in unconsciousness he still kept his body on top of hers, shielding her from falling murderous wood and metal. _

………

"I kept screaming your name, just to hear you say you were alright, but you never said. I couldn't face you for a weak after that, afraid that I would fall into a pathetic heap of tears and you would be my crutch again. Of course, you finally found me, pale and limping, but smiling and then you said how glad you were that I was alright and I fell down into that sputtering sobbing heap and we sort of used each other as a crutch …

"That was when we were 13, Ash, goddammit, then you just upped and left three years later, what was I supposed to do? Darrow hated you for a long time after that, you know, I suppose it's because he didn't know the reasons behind you leaving us like that. I still don't know if he's ever forgiven you …"

………

She kept watching him. Her voice had trailed off and she was content to stare at his pale lips, wishing they would move and speak to her again. It took hours … she lost count of how many and she didn't care. And he only screamed once, when Poppy found a piece of metal stuck in his open wound, she pulled it out and he screamed. Not long or loud – just a sharp grunt of pain that escaped his throat like a yelping wounded cat.

When the nurse was finally finished she pulled the curtain around his bed and left them. Lea knew that even years later she wouldn't forget how he looked then. White bandages wrapped around his abdomen and shoulder – almost invisible against the paleness of his skin, his chest rising and falling heavily as if every breath was painful to take. His jaw clenched and unclenched in time with his fists as the searing throb of pain threatened to consume him. She entwined her hand in his limp fist, letting her magic flow into him. He instantly calmed every muscle in his body finally going limp in relief.

She laughed softly, a desperate, hysterical chortle that left her with tears running down her cheeks again. Hands trembling as she brushed dark bangs out of his face, "I'm sorry, Ash, I know that's no consolation for what happened to you, and I know you don't want my pity, but I am sorry. And no matter how you feel, that won't change.

**TBC**


	2. Ocean Lullaby

Author's Note: This chapter is dedicated to **Wind of Freedoms, **who, to my utter dismay, got me kind of hooked on SSHG. Though, to her disappointment this story will not turn out to be SSHG, SSHG friendship – yes, romance – no. So those of you anti-SSHG, you can rest at ease.

Special note to Wind of Freedoms - contemplated seriously making this SSHG but I began writing his chapter and - well, let's just say my pen had different ideas than my head.

**Warning**: this has some _lightly _implied rape – edited chapters are available

**Chapter 2**

**Ocean Lullaby**

The prince dreamt.

_"You're late, Mr. Snape."_

_"Yes, ma'am, my apologies," he did a quick half bow before finding an empty seat next to James Potter. Sitting there, he could feel the apologetic looks from Sarah and Evans burning into his skull._

_"Late again, aye _Snivellus, _where were you? Shagging a Slytherin behind Sinclair's back?" _

_"Nah, I was just cleaning up after Evans and I had a good screw," he said casually, brushing off Evans snort of something akin to amusement. _

_"You little -," James grabbed the front of his robes, pulling him closer._

_Severus flinched, the robes brushing up against his soar back. He attempted to hide the pain by grabbing his assailant's wrist, but the fabric pressed harder and the softest of gasp escaped his lips._

_James vice grip instantly softened, a look of surprise flittered across his face. He was about to say something, his mouth open already, beginning to form words._

_"Mr. Snape, Mr. Potter, if there is a problem deal with it after class."_

_"Oh no – there's no problem at all … is there … Ashy?" his voice changed – dark and leering – his grip tightened again, his face twisting into a lecherous sneer – unrecognizable. He pulled him closer. Severus couldn't move – his body was frozen, limbs going limp as he was pushed to the floor. Everyone was silent as they watched faces blurred and emotionless. Hips were pressed roughly to his, his head snapped back with the pressure of a hand around his neck._

_"P-potter ... stop … you are not yourself."_

_"Potter?" he laughed, his face growing misshapen, "I'm not Potter …" his voice wasn't own. It was angry … cold. _

_"Priest …my lord …"_

_The chuckle warped and it was Potter, again staring down at him, "hey, Sinclair," he turned his lecherous grin in his direction, "wanna watch me take your boyfriend?"_

_Those words seemed to spring Severus into action. He fought. Arms flailing, his disguise slipped in a moment of panic and he lashed out with his powers, fire burning, wind blowing, the vines latching onto anything they could find. Potter had disappeared from straddling his hips and all he could feel was the fire burning around him – desperately, the smell of burning flesh filling his senses. He screwed his eyes closed, taking breaths of putrid air – anything to get his powers back under his control, willing his elements to come back to him._

_He lay there in a daze. Smoke dancing about his head in tendrils, swirling up and around the charred wood of the ceiling. He could feel the warmth spreading around his hand cold hand were it lay limp at his head, a feeling he had grown familiar with … blood. _

_His body ached – his chest flaring at just the thought of taking a breath. His eyes blurred with unshed tears as he rolled himself onto his side, his eyes connecting with dead green ones. Glazed over and staring, they never blinked, just stared, accusingly, angrily … dead eyes. _

_"Demon, sir, may I sing a song for you?" the voice was empty – a shred of its normal beauty, he didn't respond._

_"Demon, sir, please let me sing for you."_

_"My Lady …"_

_"Please, demon sir, I am a Dancing Demon – I will sing for you."  
"No …"_

_"Sir, please I will sing."_

_"No!" He bolted up. The blood from the bodies dripping down his back. She stood in the light of the doorway, her head tilted to the side. Her silver hair was gleaming and her eyes were white and glazed, no life left in those deceiving eyes. _

_"Why can't I sing for you, demon, sir, I am a Dancing Demon – I will sing for you."_

_"No … I killed them …"_

_"I will sing for you … demon, sir."_

_"NO!" he slammed his hands together and slammed them on the ground, walls building around himself – wood walls, steel walls, unbreakable walls, hiding him from the room around him, leaving him in the small box he created, keeping everyone out and himself in._

_"I must stop myself form hurting any more … I mustn't let them in – I can't go out. I will kill them!" _

You killed me …

_"Sarah …"_

You killed me …

_"No! Sarah!"_

Ashitaka, you killed me … why did you hurt me?

_"Sarah!" he clamped his hand over his ears, falling to his knees. Blood … it was still on his hands … staining the tainted skin … it was seeping through … drips, streams, rivers of blood bathing his knees, leaching through his walls – they would get near him, "stay away! I didn't mean it! Sarah!"_

………

"What's happening!? Poppy?" Ash was trashing, fighting the very touch of skin contact.

"Stay away!" he murmured out loud, he was hot to touch – fire coursing through his veins, the vines darkened threatening to explode from his fingertips – wind whipped around them – through the room in to disarray.

"Poppy?"

The old nurse stared into the headmaster's eyes, blue, once-twinkling eyes; she had no words … just a shake of her head.

Lea had disappeared, his movements and powers driving her away, hopefully for help.

………

_"Demon, sir, I will sing for you?" the innocence of the voice had disappeared, the silver hair was tainted with blood now, shining against the burning bodies of his classmates – the wall was destroyed … _

_"Sarah .." he sobbed … no tears fell into his blood stained hands – no relief came – his shoulders shook and he fell into a ball – rocking with terror, he was a killer …, "S-Sarah …" _

………

"Move out of the way," forgetting formalities, Lea shoved the stupid, old nurse and the ignorant, old man away from the bed. The vines were growing again, and one lashed out wrapping around Lea's wrist and she reached for Ash's hand. She ignored the pain even as it tightened and thorns buried into her skin, it really didn't want to hurt her.

"Ashitaka let me sing for you," her voice was soft, "Ashitaka," the vine around wrist wrapped further up her arm, but she dismissed it, letting her hand gently graze the softness of his cheek, "I will not hurt you, Ashitaka."

As her fingers brushed against his cheek, the vines seemed to relax from around her arm and she pulled herself up onto the bed next to him, her hands resting on his arm. She closed her eyes and turned her head to the heavens.

………

_"Demon, sir, I will sing for you … Ashitaka … I will sing you a Lullaby._

………

"Ashitaka, I shall sing you a lullaby."

………

_Ash didn't move. Just sat there, staring at the morphing figure in the doorway "killed me, Ash …"_

_"S-Sarah …"_

You didn't kill me, Ash.

_"Ashitaka let me sing for you."_

_Umi wa hiroi na, ookii na,_

_Tsuki ga noborushi, higashizumu_

_Gentle waves, calling softly, ocean lullaby;  
Rabbit moon glowing silver listens from the sky._

………

Ashitaka no longer tense, retracted the vines from around Lea's arm, the heat of the room decapitated and was left cool – the wind died to a gentle breeze, caressing his skin, carrying the sweet voice to the stars.

………

_"Ashitaka,"_

_"L-lea …"_

_"I will sing for you."_

You didn't kill me, Severus.

_Umi ni ofune o ukabasete,  
Yurete dokomade tsuzukuyara._

You didn't kill me.

_Gentle waves, calling softly, ocean lullaby;  
Rabbit moon glowing silver, beckons me goodnight.  
Umi ni ofune o ukabasete  
Itte mitaina, yoso no kuni._

_Sleep, Ashitaka, rest._

………

The prince slept.

TBC

The song was a Japanese Lullaby called "Umi" meaning "Vast Sea".

This chapter was intended to be confusing. Some will be explained in the next chapter, the rest give credit to night terrors. Most nightmares/dreams are confusing right? Why would this one be any different?


	3. Or Rats and Birds

**IMPORTANT,** _IMPORTANT_, IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE THAT IS EXTREMELY _**IMPORTANT**_ TO THE PLOT LINE IN THIS STORY!! PLEASE READ BEFORE CONINTUING!!!

I'm having a bit of a dilemma, my dear readers. This story seems to be taking a romantic aspect – unintentionally intentional on my part. And in past moments I had reassured some readers that this would not turn into SSHG, but it seems to be turning into such. So I turn to you my readers, who are my top priority – what would you have me do?

Yes, a long time ago I was dead against SSHG, but it slowly grew on me. And for those of you who are against it – think of it this way – it's not really Severus in this story it's Ashitaka. And remember he's stopped aging until he has completed his "task in life" maybe he won't start aging naturally until Hermione's 36 birthday – just something to think about.

This chapter is dedicated to **Wind of Freedom** for forever arguing with me about my story (which I love) and for helping me work out some kinks in the plot. This is also dedicated to **Classical Gas** for giving me the ultimate challenge of topping "an author's own perfection". Also another thanks to **Wind of Freedom** who gave me an idea for this story plot wise that I am using and twisting and turning and warping into some sick twisted thing, but the general idea is hers.

**Chapter 3**

**Of Rats and Birds**

Hermione glared. She could see them even from her vantage point far above the roof. Little black dots scurrying like rats – noses stuck in every crevice, searching for something to exploit, a nuisance to all. Their constant chatter, questions, squeaks filling the air. She hated them all.

_Reporters_

There was only one among them that was amiable - a flower among weeds; Mr. Lovegood. So far the reporters hadn't gone anywhere stuck on the outside of the evil seeking barrier. Apparently all reporters were evil – except for the exception of course.

Luna was a blonde blur against the stained dead grass. How she slipped past the prefects was beyond her. She hugged her father, talking fast. Her father, still oblivious to anything that went on behind the barrier just nodded.

The reporters look disappointed at the girl's lack of information, but the view was story enough. The Demons hadn't left yet – they reset up their tents – fires burning again – bodies were cremated, releasing smoke into the sky. They paid no attention to the scattering forms except to send the epitome of a death glare, one that only Potions Master Severus Snape could counter.

_Severus … _the thought of her professor made her heart ache. She hadn't gone to see him yet – she kept putting it off, finding other things to do – making excuses. She just didn't want to face him – see him lying hurt, she didn't think she could really take it. She let out a shuddering breath, just remembering how he looked brought her near tears.

"Hey, Hermione!" she turned; calls like that no longer startled her out of flight. She noticed Harry didn't attempt to fly up to her, so she flew down, "hey, Hermione," he repeated, his voice soft, "I was off to the hospital wing, to see Ron, do you want to come?"

_Ron, oh Ron … _she forgot about him.

_Some death eaters did break from formation, but not all were so dense – they marched on, students cowering in their wake – except for one said student. He was covered in soot – his red hair now spouting streaks of black. He threw himself in front of the young students, not even thinking about the silver masked followers coming towards him._

_"What are you doing here?!" he snarled furiously, grabbing the shoulders of the red head in charge of the runaway group._

_"I'm sorry, Ron!"_

_"If Mum ever finds out about this, I'm dead!"_

_"R-Ron!" Ginny raised a trembling finger and pointed behind him as their masked renegade. He raised his wand face expressionless, but probably grinning behind the mask, "_Crucio_." Ron had no time to react, he crumpled to the ground, screaming as hot daggers stabbed into his unprotected body. The death eater laughed when Ginny screamed._

_"You bastard!" she raged and without even thinking the death eater lay unconscious from her well cast _stupefy.

_"Thanks, Ginny."_

Hermione shook her head, Ron always trying to act the hero. He got up and continued fighting despite the tremors coursing through his body from the after effects of the curse. He collapsed as soon as the battle was over.

Hermione smiled fondly, when she walked into the wing. Ron was awake telling his story to an eager audience, "I didn't know what else to do. The Cruciatus Curse was going right towards her. I knew me mum would kill me if she got hurt, so I jumped in front of it."

"Did it hurt?"

"Just a little bit," he put on a bravado face and winced as if hiding excruciating pain.

"Good morning, Ron," Hermione smiled at him cheerfully.

"'Mione!"

His audience all greeted her warmly and shortly left. His reenactment was over anyway, "Hermione, Harry!"

"How are you, Ron?" she sat on the side of his bed.

He blushed.

"I'm great, 'Mione, how are you?"

She smiled again, "fine, Ron, what have you been up to?" Why was this suddenly so awkward for the three of them? Nothing has changed.

"Oh, not much …" he trailed off and an awkward silence followed.

"Ms. Hermione!?" the once cheery voice now sounded tired, tired and warn. Her black hair fell disoriented around her shoulders. She was trying to put on a brave face and would have succeeded if not for her red, puffy eyes. That human trait looked so out of place on her demon orbs – such sad eyes.

"Lea!" Hermione rushed up to her, stopping short, unsure how Demons reacted to physical human contact – did they welcome such a show of affection?  
"Oh, Hermy!" Lea through her arms around the human girl, "I was so worried about you – even though there were no human casualties! Oh girl, you even held your own! I'm so proud. Look what a good teacher I am!"

Hermione sputtered in the vice grip, trying to catch her breath as she was released, "no human casualties? Were there others?"

It was like someone had turned a switch off and all her enthusiasm went out. The light in her eyes seemed to dim a little, "yes … there were. Lady Pinaku was killed right before the Final Fight began. It seemed as if the Masked Renegades didn't think the humans as much of a threat and focused there fighting on the demons." She looked stricken at the thought.

"L … Lady Pinaku?"

"Yes – there were others, but I wasn't familiar with them."

"I'm sorry …"

No one spoke.

"Well, it's over. I suppose it would be more painful to dwell on, yes?"

Hermione frowned, "yes – Lea … may I see him?"

It was completely unnecessary to ask who 'him' was. Lea seemed to hesitate.

"If you'd rather not – I'd understand …"

"No, it's just … he's just … it's hard to look at."

"I think I'll brave it, Lea – I've avoided it enough."

Lea smiled, almost relieved, "k! I … I'll give you a minute there is some on – something I need to look in on."

Hermione raised an eyebrow as she left, "she sure was in a hurry to see someone." The eyebrows fell and squinted in confusion. Weren't she and Severus – _when did I start calling him Severus …? _– Together … _**together? **_She blushed; she'd rather not dwell on Sever – _Professor _Snape's romantic relationships

She said a few goodbyes and 'get wells' to Harry and Ron and then hesitated. He was in a special room – Madam Pomphrey said the curse used on him was causing major interferences with the casting of her healing magic. His room was warded – his own powers still unstable and unpredictable – she did notice the scratches up Lea's arm. Taking a calming breath to keep her own powers under control she slipped in the door.

The room was dimmed, the only light coming form the fading sun through the window about his bed. It seeped in pooling around the still form, silhouetting him in angelic grace – his brush with death gleaming in the soft light.

Hermione bit her lip as she closed the door behind her … so peaceful. She gently sat in vacated seat.

He wore only black trousers – his chest would have been bare if not for the bandages. They were tight against his stomach – diagonally crossing up, covering the left side of his chest. She briefly wondered just how much the curse affected his elemental magic – the bandages covered all of his arms, wrapping up the left side of his neck to protect the tender vines etched with magic into his skin. Black hair fell around softly closed eyes – every muscle in his body completely limp and relaxed.

HE lat on top of the folded blanket, his body slightly tilted to one side, bare feet almost disappearing beneath the too long black pants, "Professor Snape .. the most hated hero …" so relaxed he was he didn't even flinch as she rested her hand on his un bandaged fingers – such elegant fingers, "if you were a muggle – or a human for that matter you would be an amazing piano player …"

Behind those relaxed eyelids the Prince of the Four Lands played the piano.

_He was dressed formally in black tuxedo, fit with tail coat, top hat and all. His fingers danced across the smooth black and white keys – a lover's tune floating across the grand ballroom. Crystal chandeliers cast shadows in the corners where the queen watched. Her silver laced up shoes were the only things visible amongst the blackness._

_"Prince Ashitaka! Play another tune, such elegant hands you have."_

_The dream prince grinned, cat teeth flashing in the dimmed light, "It's a gift, luv," he told the fawning women, his kohl rimmed eyes never straying from the blushing bunch._

_"Oh, Prince, where would be your lovely bride?" a fair red head in the crowd winked at him – her silky black dress hugging her curves in all the right places._

_Ashitaka grinned again, the cocky look never leaving his eyes, "why just over –"his voice caught in his throat and he gazed at the empty corner, the silver slippers had disappeared._

_"Would this be her?"_

_The green-eyed red head was holding her by the hair – a dagger pressed her throat._

_"Ms. Granger?" she looked at the woman that held his student captive, "that's not my bride."_

_"It isn't?" she was beginning to look all too familiar, "well, hen I guess it wouldn't bother you if I -," she raised the dagger, ready to fell the killing blow._

_"No!" he looked around desperately for a help that would never come, any friendly face in the crowd of hatred and scorn, but none appeared. No one ever came to help him._

_"Oooo … so she does mean something to you?" there was a wicked malicious glint glowing in her eyes – so familiar. _

_"What do you want?" the dagger was dangerously close to the vein in her neck and she whimpered at the touch of the cold steel._

_"Oh – just to see you suffer." She sneered and the blow fell._

_"Hermione!"_

There was concern in her eyes now. The relaxation had evaporated moments after her hand touched his. Without warning he violently flinched away from her touch, his muscles tensing when she want to stroke his arm again.

After a few minutes of uncertainty he seemed to calm, if not relax, he just went limp … as if in defeat.

"You'll be alright, Profes – Prince Ashitaka … people still need you …"

He let out a soft moan, tossing his head to one side then relaxing into her grip. He leaned into her hand and a peaceful look fell over his face. She was content to just watch him sleep (or lie in unconsciousness). For the first time he seemed content – or at least relaxed.

"Hermione? Anything the matter?"

Hermione looked a little disappointed, she didn't want to ruin the moment, "I think he was having a nightmare."

"Oh. I should have warned you. He's been getting night terrors. They were so bad the first few times that he'd completely lose control of his powers." Lea motioned to the scratches up her arms, "it's always dangerous when an elemental loses control of their power."

It was then that Hermione noticed the demon standing behind her. He was tall and light on his feet. Everything about him screamed, _dancer. _He just looked elegant. Not like a Wind Demon elegant who seemed to bend and twist in ways that didn't seem possible. He seemed to dance. Dance with the air, not on the air as Wind Demons do. It only took a moment to register who he was and for some reason the way he stood so close to Lea made her question her previous thought about the intimacy of Professor Snape's and Lea's relationship.

She stood up, offering a bow, "You are Darrow, correct?"

TBC

**PLEASE READ THE AUTHORS NOTE!!!**


	4. Sitrapes Darrow

**Author's Note: **I spent the last 2 days in shock. I stayed up at the party until midnight to get HP 7, stayed up until five reading it. Slept until noon, finished reading it from 3 to 7. I cried at six different occasions. Sobbed at 1. Just to let everyone know. My theories PWN ALL! And I shan't say more than that.

**Author's Note 2: **If you read my updated summary for this story you should see my decision on the SSHG romance aspect. I thought about it and decided that I'm not really up to writing a student/teacher romance, especially since it's my first romance that I will have ever written and I don't want to fudge it up. So I'll stick to once-sided SSHG (from Hermione, of course) and then just SSHG friendship.

I have Darrow's character study finished if anyone is interested in reading it. Send me your email and I'll get it to you.

**Chapter 4**

_**Sitrapes **_**Darrow**

Hermione watched the young man bow to her. He was peculiar looking. He was tall and thin, and he had the muscles and physique of a dancer – agility. He has dark skin – but etched at his cheek bones were marks of a pattern that looked like feathers against his skin. She could see them stretched on his arms and neck disappearing below his clothing. He wasn't handsome, not really - he had a beaklike noise and yellow bird eyes. When he reached out his hand to gently brush the fingers of the prone finger in the bed his fingers were hooked looked, sharp nails like talons. He really was a bird Demon.

His diplomatic formal attire reminded her that she was in the presence of three very powerful demons and she did not want to insult him.

"I believe we have met before, no?" his voice was soft and song-like.

"Yes, we have, it's a pleasure to meet you again." She watched him as perched on the stool next to his must-be friend; hands gently stroking the pale cheek.

"That's just like you, Ashitaka," he said it softly, obviously not intending for anyone else to hear.

"Well, Lea, _Sitrapes_ Darrow, I shall be on my way," she added the honorific title for "diplomat" just because she wasn't sure how friendly _Sitrapes_ Darrow really was.

She left as quickly as she could.

………

**The Death of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named**

**Is It A Hoax or Are the Demons For Real?**

I'm standing outside Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry writing in a tent unable to enter. Why, you ask? It seems the rumors are true. Someone or something has come to the aid of the famous school. But who are these mysterious strangers? Are they really Demons who had years ago sworn off contact with the human race? Is Potions Master Severus Snape really the exiled Prince Ashitaka? No one really knows. All we know is that You-Know-Who is dead. And it wasn't the Boy-Who-Lived that defeated him** … **_continued on page 8._

Hermione stared rather blankly at the article in front of her. That was probably the first time in a long time that she wasn't totally revolted by what was splattered across the front page of the _Daily Prophet. _The article lacked any story at all and she was tempted to go out to the reporters now and scream out the truth. But she settled for turning to the rest of the article instead.

_Continued from page 1 … _I arrived at Hogwarts expecting to find disaster before my eyes. I found nothing of the sort. I walked through the gates past a still intact hut only to be stopped. It was a barrier. Nothing was going in and nothing was coming out. No spells destroyed the barrier, or gave me right to pass. All I could do was wait. Before me I saw hundreds of tents, and creatures of a manner I had never seen before. All were solemn and glaring. They made no move to let me through the barrier and no one came out to speak to me. It took me a moment to realize these weren't humans or just another mere magical creature. They felt of power that was unimaginable to me. It was then I realized they were Demons.

I heard rumors through this barrier of a Prince that brought about the downfall of the Dark Lord. After a few sneaky questions I found out that princes name to be Severus Snape. A renowned Potions Master – human as far as I knew, but there were some things I wasn't so sure about anymore. –

At this point Hermione got bored with the article. It told her nothing of what was going on in the Wizarding World – just that no one knew what had happened at Hogwarts. She shook her head and through the paper back at Ginny who was reading a copy of the Quibbler. The stories were almost the same.

"Ms. Granger?" Hermione looked up not expecting to see who she did.

"_Sitrapes_ Darrow, what can I do for you?"

"Please, Ms. Granger, Darrow is fine, no need for such formal titles. I was wondering if you wished to accompany me on a stroll around the castle. I am not very familiar with the place and I wish to see some of the sights." The way he spoke meant that he really wouldn't take no for an answer and there was more than the sights of Hogwarts that he wished to speak about.

"Please, call me Hermione, I would love to."

She stood up and left the Great Hall with him. The strolled in a silence that was borderline uncomfortable, but she did nothing to break it. He wanted to speak with her, didn't he?

"So, Hermione, Lea tells me you have been training with her?"

"Yes, she is a very good teacher."

Darrow smiled and didn't say anything for a while. The walked along through the barrier – most of the reporters were gone, realizing they weren't getting much of a story, "this is where the Half-Giant lives, no?"

"Yes, Rubeus Hagrid, keeper of keys at Hogwarts."

He nodded.

As they walked along the edge of the woods, Darrow asked her simple questions about the history of the Hogwarts, he asked about the houses and sorting hat and he asked about the triwizard tournament and her classes. He seemed particularly interested in Potions. But it seemed to Hermione that it wasn't Hogwarts he was interested in. She wasn't quite sure what, but he was putting something off. Wanting to say something to her, but not quite grasping the courage.

"Demons used to hold a very high respect for Professor Dumbledore, a man we thought of such courage and selflessness."

"Prince Ashitaka is probably a very big cause of your loss of respect."

"Yes, that is true; any one who could treat such a loyal and powerful man with such carelessness deserves no respect in our eyes. Especially with the torments he went through to help him so much."

"Yes, on that point I do agree."

"I want to thank you, Hermione Granger, for taking this walk with me. It was very enlightening. It was nice to speak to a human who didn't reek of such fear for us."

"It was a please, _Sitrapes_ Darrow. I would hope we would be able to do it again."

"Yes, I would hope so."

He walked her back to her dormitories, "good day, Ms. Granger," he bowed and walked off down the hall.

She watched him disappear around the corner, "just what are you up, _Sitrapes _Darrow?"

**TBC**

What is Darrow up to?

Is it another plan against Ashitaka?

Suspicions against Ms. Granger?

What could he be thinking?

If anyone didn't catch that _Sitrapes_ means diplomat in my little world.


	5. I Am A Ceramic Flower Pot

**11/1/07**

**Author's Note: Yes! It is true! I am alive! I was trick-or-treating on Halloween (yes, I'm in high school and I still trick-or-treat, get over it) and I was a bit distracted and all of a sudden I was struck with the image if Darrow pinning Ashitaka against a wall, in a fight, nothing sexual people. **

**I started imagining this extremely intricate character development fight in my head and I got so excited that I had to come home and write! Inspiration is a wonderful thing!**

**Now, I don't write for reviews, I write for my own peace of mind (reviews are an added perk), but none of the less, I do feel bad when people are following a story they are mildly interested in and the author doesn't update in over six months cough, cough**

**My sincerest apologies, dear readers, junior year of high school sucks, but I shan't make any more excuses. Thank you everyone for sticking with me.**

**As I'm begin to wrap up this story (in 10 to 15 chapters that is, I am beginning to coauthor an original story with two friends of mine, so if anyone is interested, I'll post a link when we start publishing the chapters).**

**12/17/07 **

**As you can see from the last authors note that I put on this chapter before it was posted I get inspired very easily only to loose interest very fast. BUT! To prove a point! I am sitting here for the next hour to write this damn chapter and edit it because my betas disappeared! **

**ONWARD!**

**Dedicated to ****Rhylahna**** for making me feel bad and getting me remotivated to work on this chapter!**

**Now! On with the story!**

**Chapter 5**

**Ceramic Flower Pot**

He found it oddly fascinating, the sensations of potions. As morbid and a bit psychotic as it sounded, it was true. They were a dull pain or a soft relief. They could warp the mind into twisted fantasies and sing lullabies of lies and deceit. He loved the sensation of total disregard to everything around him, every pain, every grief, every memory.

He sounded like a druggy, he knew it.

But he didn't sell Hell's Dance on the corner in the City; he didn't drink the tantalizing combination of Dreamless Sleep and Adrenaline potions just to get the foggy haze. He knew the tricks, the mixtures; he knew how far one could go, hoe far one could push the limits passed the line into hazard. How far, how thin the line was. How extremely, erotically dangerous.

His eyes were closed and it took too much effort to force them open out of his own pain-relieving haze. He liked this painless state of mind. He was so used to the pain that it seemed abnormal not to have the dull sensation lingering in the back of his head like a splinter that wouldn't come out.

Something was nagging though – it was rather irritating, but it wasn't the splinter, more like the wind blowing hair in your face while you're trying to read or constantly having to swerve your horse about so as not to hit the birds too dumb to move out of the way of clattering hooves.

The last one was a bit of a stretch, but the idea was there.

Maybe it was that voice that was nagging at him. It was a nice voice, calm – a bit high-pitched, but welcoming – like a father welcomes the call of his little girl. Her words were a bit coherent, just snatches of familiar noises really. Was that his name she was saying?

_Professor Snape … _

No, that wasn't his name. Was it? He couldn't quite remember anything at the moment and fighting the haze that was suppressing his brain's function was giving him a headache – he was going back to sleep.

………

"Professor?"

The reaction she had received before didn't come.

"It's like he gave up." The light male voice was barely audible from the doorway, "Ms. Granger," Darrow nodded at her.

"Given up?"

"Yes, it's what I was afraid would happen." He didn't elaborate and a silence of _fear _ensued. He didn't have to.

"Darrow? Hermione? I just stepped out for a moment, what's going on?" She walked to his bedside, "what's wrong?"

"Lea," the gentle touch to her arm was all she needed, "nothing's wrong, not anymore."

"What –," she looked to Ash, whose face was a mask of calm, emotionless and painless from the potions, unmoving – he could have been dead – his chest rose and fell slowly, the bandages still stained with blood.

"He's –,"

"Fine, Lea, but he's not waking up."

"That's just his body still healing."

"His body? Or his mind?"

"That halted any argument she had, "mind healing," it wasn't a question any more.

"He's in a coma … ?"

"Coma?" the question in Darrow's voice was evidence to the fact that he had no idea what the little human girl was talking about.

"It's when there is some physical trauma and their mind tells them not to wake up."

"Ever?"

"It depends."

"On what?"

"On how much they want to wake up. It's still a mystery in the muggle word. I don't know if …" she trailed off letting her more than enthusiastic explanation trail off.

"He doesn't want …" Lea sat heavily, or as heavy as her small frame could.

"Ms. Granger, will you l eave us please?" it was a command said politely.

She ducked silently out with one last look at her dying professor.

………

"Lea …" Darrow caught her small frame in his arms and she just lay there limp in his grasp.

"He can't just leave me again. He can't. He can't. He can't."

"Lea, I know, we will make him if we have too." _I won't see you hurt again, I swear it._

Flashback

His walk was slow paced. The darkness of the back alley was welcome on his tired eyes, a gentle grace on his pounding head.

"So the prince has finally returned to his castle- welcomed with open arms by his _adoring _fans."

"It's nice to see you haven't changed at all." He stopped his movements and his raven eyes found the half sparrow, half human form lingering above him. As the shadow slid from his perch on the alley wall, the wings receded and a fully clad man stood in front of him, blocking his path.

"I wish I could say the same to you." Ash just kept walking, attempting to brush past the antagonist. The actions that followed were quick and blurred. The bird man reached to stop his progress only to meet empty air as Ash dropped, sweeping his assailants feet out from under him.

Darrow could have countered, but he wasn't yet angered into violence. He found he was looking up into cold, emotionless onyx eyes. He was startled by the change he saw. Ash didn't hesitate to bear down on the pressure points of his neck and shoulders, holding him in place.

Darrow gasped, kicking out against the hold, but the prince didn't budge, "don't touch me." The voice was icy and the bird was released. Ash stood and without a second glance walked away.

"Ash, wait," without thinking he reached up to grab his former best friends shoulder. The fist that met his cheek sent him to the ground, "you don't learn very quickly, do you? I said don't touch me." His eyes held no fire.

"Why are you doing this, Ash?"

"I…" he turned away and didn't continue.

"Ash-"

"I'm just protecting myself." He walked away and loped into his panther form, morphing into secluding shadows.

_Protecting myself_

From what?

_From you._

End Flashback

Hermione didn't answer any questions when she was asked how he was doing. She didn't have the heart to lie to them anymore.

"Hey, Hermione! How's Professor Snape?" her duo walked up to her, all smiles – what's there not to smile about? The greatest dark wizard of all time was dead and the blood didn't stain the Golden Boys hands – of course they were happy.

"Let's go somewhere private."

………

The furniture was still broken and walls were still gouged from claws and teeth, but at the present time the Shack was empty. And there Hermione told them everything. Every worry, every pain, everything and by the time she was finished she was crying and Harry was silent. In his own awkward way Ron stuck an arm around her shoulders in a comforting manner.

"Everything will work out, Hermione, don't worry 'bout it, Lady Lea will find a way."

"Oh Ron, she didn't even know, she didn't even realize what was wrong, how will she find a way?"

"Didn't know," Harry had his hand on hers, "or wouldn't admit? Professor Snape won't abandon us here, 'Mione, have some faith."

………

Things were getting rather painful again. His ribs were little knives imbedded in his body, his chest was a balloon fighting for oxygen. His head was no longer a head, but a ceramic flower pot in a box crushed under a thousand ton of bricks – yes, the pain was definitely back. And he wasn't any old ceramic pot – he had roses. So as the thousand ton of bricks crushed in his walls, the thorns embedded themselves into the soft flesh of his neck and chest.

"He's in pain, you have to do something!"

Oh, very good little voice in my head, I am in pain, do something about that, would you?

"Potions aren't working, not with the mental state he's in."

Mental state? Did some one just add another ton of bricks on top of my flower pot? Maybe I am in a mental state.

Who's growing in pain, give the man some medicine. Oh, I am the man? Well, it's painful when I'm awake, the darkness was so much more gentle on my eyes. It's too late to give me medicine now, darling, I'm going back to sleep.

………

It was as if all the strength he was using to fight just gave out. He lost the color in his cheeks and the flowers on his magic vines were wilting. He didn't even flinch when a foreign hand touch him. He ripped open old wounds and blood was dripping down a limp, cold hand, puddling around the magic fingertips.

"Out, out." Poppy bustled in shooing the Demons out, "you ripped open his wounds, out, out and don't come back," the door slammed behind them.

"Lady Lea," the water scout walked unperturbed by the stares that followed him. He bowed, "Lady Lea, _Sitrapes _Darrow."

"Guardos, do you have a report?"

Guardos smiled at the authority in her voice, "Yes, Lady, we've seen movement of rebellion in the southern tip of Aguadonce."

"Rebellion? Unrest from the change in power?"

"Potential change in power, if you please, my Lady, and no" he grimaced, "unrest in the punishment of the water demon involved with the Dancing Deceiver."

"There was no punishment."

"No punishment dealt by the monarchy, my Lady, but the people dealt there own punishment." He winced as he set it.

"Oh buggar, send Lord Aguva to deal with it."

"The Water Ambassador?"

"It is his town after all. Let him deal with his people."

"Yes, my lady." He bowed, and then hesitated.

"What is it, Guardos?"

"My Lady, L-lord Ashitaka, how is he?"

"Not well."

"I feared as much. May Echo watch over him."

"Thank you, Guardos."

"My Lady, _Sitrapes,_" he bowed and left.

"Lea, my dear, you may come in now." The door opened silently for her, "I just changed the bandages and healed the wounds again. There's some pink in his cheeks again."

Poppy was lying about the pink in his cheeks, but she was just trying to make her feel better. Darrow's silent presence behind her was comforting.

"Nothing is going to change tonight, dear, you should get some sleep." Lea just nodded her head at the nurse, but she knew she wouldn't sleep.


	6. The Walls Come Tumbling Down

Wow, it's been a long time. Life's hectic, busy, the usual. I've grown up a bit, I've gone through some stuff that made me grow up a bit. But I'm ready to get back in the game. I miss writing and I miss pleasing my readers, so here I am. Hope you're happy to see me. I'm happy to be back writing for my peace of mind.

Chapter 6

The Walls Came Tumbling Down

He could feel the lights stabbing at his eyes and it hurt. A lot. He wasn't really sure where he was, who he was.

Light.

That meant daytime.

He thought. He wasn't really sure what it meant anymore. His mind was so screwed up he wasn't sure of anything anymore. Maybe it was time to just fall into the pain. Maybe it would wake up his brain. It obviously wasn't working right anymore.

He moaned.

… … …

"I think he's in pain." Lea hovered. She hated hovering, but she was hovering. His hands were twitching in hers, barely moving, but moving. Muscles were s stretching and clenched and his breathing was labored as the pain came rushing back, "Poppy, what's happening?"

"Just wait m'dear."

… … …

He felt cool hands on his. Why did his chest feel so heavy? Why was it so hard to breathe? His arms were like lead and he so desperately wanted to move them, but that concept seemed foreign to the muscles that have been lying dormant for so long. Those cooling hands were rubbing at his fingers, gentle strokes that were lulling. He wished they would stop. It was putting him to sleep and he was quite tired of sleeping. He had dreamed and he had experienced nightmares and he was tired of it. They were just nightmares now, nothing more.

**Flashback**

He dreamed.

His walls were crashing down around him. Bodies were falling at his feet, blood splashing at his ankles. He was drowning, descending into a black abyss of foreboding terror and hopelessness. But why? He didn't understand anymore. Why was this happening?

"Hello good sir, and how are you today?"

That voice. So carefree, couldn't he see what he was doing to the people around him. Couldn't he see the horror, the murder, the sins that stained his bloody hands.

"Nice day, isn't it?"

Such small talk. Didn't they know? Couldn't they hear the screams of his victims as they fell at his feet? Couldn't they smell the flesh of the family that rotted in the closet? Was it not important to anyone?

Why were his walls not working? Why was the bloody tide subsiding? Where was the nightmare?

**End Flashback**

That was an old dream. He had mulled over his dreams and nightmares and he was quite bored of them to be honest. Oh yes, blood, guts, death, murder, sins, death, he'd seen it all. Over and over and over and over again and he didn't need to see it anymore. He didn't need to be reminded of what had happened. It had happened and his walls were failing him. He didn't like being unprotected; maybe his walls were the things that were hurting him. Maybe instead of keeping the bad things out, the bad things were already there and he walled them in. He locked himself in the lion's den and no prayer to any god to save him. Only he, himself, could save him.

… … …

She continued to stare at him. Nothing was working anymore. They had tried everything and she was at the point that she was ready to admit that he just didn't want to wake up. He'd rather sit in bed and sleep and dream and die alone.

His hands had been twitching recently. Poppy said that could be a sign of some new activity or something. She didn't care. She didn't listen to the old bats hopeful ramblings. If he was going to give up then she was too.

"Lea?"

"Dorrow."

"Anything?"

"Is there ever?"

"No, I suppose not."

"Lea…" _that was painful._

Lea looked up at Dorrow, "you okay? Sounds like you have a sore throat."

"That wasn't me."

Lea looked at him and looked down at Ashitaka. He lay motionless, breathing still slightly labored, pale skin that shown slightly in the morning sun that sparkled across the floor from the open window, black, scruffy hair blew about his face as wind magic picked up slightly around them. And dark, obsidian orbs blinked painfully and slowly up at the two faces he had been dying to see most.

"Ashy …" Lea bent over him, staring straight into his eyes, searching.

"Lea …" his voice was hoarse and his breathing was slightly ragged. His lids were heavy as they blinked up at her.

"Stay with me, Ash," she placed a cool, nimble hand on his forehead, brushing unruly hair away, "Poppy!" she called out, never looking away, afraid he was fade back into his shelter at any moment.

Poppy came bustling in, in a fuss, "what is it, m'dear? Oh goodness, Professor!" She jumped right to work. She was shocked, but smiling like a fool. They all were, "just stay with us, Mr. Jodiki, water, drink." She placed a cool, wet cloth to his lips for him to drink from, "tell me, how do you feel?"

"..Hurts…" was all he could manage, feeling a little pathetic.

"You should, 7 broken ribs, multiple lacerations, internal bleeding, a severe concussion and not to mention the torn muscles, the snapped tendons, the bruised bones, the physical exhaustion, the fevers. You're a mess!" She bustled around with her wand, poking, and prodding, muttering, smiling, "go to sleep."

Lea looked up, horrified, "but promise you'll wake up again."

"He promises," Darrow answered for him. Their eyes locked, and unseen understanding passing between them, "he knows what'll happen if he doesn't."

Ash managed a small smile, before slipping back into painless oblivion.


	7. Empty Room

I was reading through old reviews and I feel awful about leaving you all alone. I didn't even realize that so many people cared about these stories and that so many were looking forward to my updating and I failed you guys. So take this second chapter in two days as a sincere apology. I'll try my best not to fail you guys again.

**Chapter 7**

**Empty Room**

"It's been almost a week, how long do we plan to keep them locked in, _Sitrapes_ Darrow? I mean no disrespect, and we appreciate everything that has been done for us, but don't you think it's time to move on? We're safe now."

"Headmaster, I understand your concern, but there are fights going on right outside these protected walls, rebellions from rouge wizards, street wars in the town right down the road. Are you really willing to risk the safety of your students? We have already put down the barrier for owls. The families of your students know they are safe. They understand."

"And the press?"

"What about the press?" Darrow was getting a little annoyed with the blue-eyed traitor. _He'd be a water demon if I ever saw one, conniving, little bastard. _He stood like a stone statue in front of the headmaster's desk. His patience was wearing thin. They had been having the argument for days and it was getting incredibly boring.

"They're camping outside of our walls, like we're animals waiting to be killed. We have to tell them something!"

"Then tell them something, the press is nothing of our concern!"

"But we can't get the press in because of your walls!"

"Right." Damn you, Ashitaka, "as of right now, there is nothing I can do about that. You know who we must wait for." Darrow's patience was wearing thin.

The headmaster sighed, leaning back in his chair, pressing fingertips together in front of him.

"Is there a problem, Headmaster, or may I take my leave?"

"How long are you planning on waiting for him? What happens if –?"

Darrow cut him off, sharply, "he'll come back to us."  
"Will he?"

"Good day, Headmaster."

… … …

No one was told about Ashitaka's awakening. No one wanted to hope that much. Darrow walked around the grounds that afternoon, contemplating on what the Headmaster had said to him. The students were probably longing to go home. There was no doubt in his mind that everyone was longing to go home. He was longing to go home.

He looked about at the Demons that were still camped there. The army was there. Their children and significant others at home, waiting for word of their loved ones. There were still festivities to be had. They won the war after all, but nothing would be celebrated until their leader was there to celebrate with them.

They would probably send the students home before that. It would be too strange to have a celebration with them.

"_Sitrapes_?"

"Ms. Granger, how are you today?"

"I'm worried." Darrow smiled at her; he had grown fond of Ms. Granger. He understood why Ashitaka was so protective of her. She was something worth protecting.

"No need to worry, love," he pulled her into one-armed hug. He was feeling very affectionate. It was entirely inappropriate, but he wanted to show her that he cared, "he's come back one, he'll come back again."

Some how she had been pulled into their ranks. She was almost one of them. Almost.

"I suppose you're right."

… … …

"Lea?"

"Ash!" Lea was tempted to throw herself into his arms, but stopped herself. He was hurt, "water?"

Ashitaka nodded slowly, eyes closed in pain. He drank greedily when the water was put to his lips.

"Not so fast," Ash smiled up at her as she pulled the cup away, "better?"

"Yes."

"Let me get the healers," she turned away to leave. She needed a Demon, not Poppy. She felt a hand grab at her wrist, pulling her back to look at him. His grip was weak, but she didn't have the heart to pull her hand away.

"Lea …"

"I know, Ash."

"I'm sorry."

"I know."

… … …

The healers poked and prodded at him for about twenty minutes, "you're going to hurt, Your Highness. You won't be out of bed for a good few days and when you get out of bed, you'll hurt and will only have the strength for a couple of hours at a time. I suggest some muscle relaxing potions, some pain control potions and Flesh Growing ointment on the wounds. I'm afraid these wounds were inflicted with magic weapons, not healable with spells and enchantments."

"Yes, sir."

The healer bulked at Ashitaka. He was a young man, probably had a natural gift in healing and started young. He was the temple healer that spent most of his days doing free work in the streets of the village. To hear the lost prince of the Four Worlds address him as "sir" through him off. He felt the blood rush to his cheeks, "er …yes …You shouldn't do any magic for a while, the power you put into your last few attacks completed drained your system and it still recovering, that is possibly why you were in a coma for so long."

"How long?"

"Six days." And when the prince didn't respond to that he continued, "No magic for at least a week. No extraneous activities, no sparring, no training, no horseback riding, no changing forms. I greatly stress the no changing forms. It is very magic consuming and I wouldn't want to risk getting stuck in between forms if your magic fails you and runs out. Now, being elemental you might think you can take the magic from your surroundings, but I would strongly suggest not doing so in your present condition. The magic around here is contamination-."

"I know, healer. I lived here, remember?"

"Ashitaka, no need to get snappy. I'm sure he meant no harm."

"My apologies, healer."

"Not necessary. I was informed by Lady Lea to tell you all these things because she didn't believe that you would listen to your own knowledge of the situation."

"Healer! I don't' appreciate that!"

"He meant no harm, Lady Lea." Ash said weakly. His breath was still weak, but he was strong enough to say the words sarcastically.

They spent the next hour redressing his wounds. The bandages were fresh and white against his now almost olive skin. Lea had to leave for the wound dressing. She couldn't take the blood or the hisses of pain as they rubbed ointment into his wounds. The vines on his arms were coming back to life after dying with him. They were budding, breathing with new growth.

… … …

She was feeling a small sense of panic come over her and she wasn't sure why. It had been a couple of days after all; maybe he was gone for a walk with Lea or Darrow. _No … I saw Lea in the library just a few moments_ _ago and I passed Darrow on my way here and he was definitely alone. _This would be her first time visiting her professor and it was getting off to great start.

The bed was empty when she got there. It was neatly made with fresh sheets and no signs of anyone being in that room at all. His wand was gone (it was useless, but she had set it next to him for her own comfort), his book was gone, the water pitcher and glass was clean and empty. The whole room was empty.

She was panicking.

The finally returned Prince of the Four Lands was missing … again.


	8. A Broken Tool

I'm a little sad all my readers disappeared, but it's what I should expect after being gone for so long. So for the few of you that are still reading, I will continue and finish. ^_^ Thanks!

Chapter 8

A Broken Tool

"He's what?" Lea said it calmly. Her voice was even with only the slightest upward inflection of irritation and annoyance. Her eyes flashed dangerous and she towered over a cowering Hermione, "would you care to repeat that, Ms. Granger?"

"I think you heard her, Lea, he's gone again." Darrow held Lea's arm to keep her from pouncing on the pour human.

Lea really wanted to say something, but she clamped her mouth shut and with a frustrated scream that didn't escape her closed lips, she thundered off.

"Where are you going?"

"Where do you think? I'm going to look for the stupid bastard."

… … …

It was so quiet and cool. His injuries were burning before, he was suffocating in that room, and he couldn't take it anymore. The concrete walls were pressing down on him, cutting him off from the magic of the world he could feel calling to him from the outside. He had to escape. No one would listen to him, not that he could say much with how weak he was. He could barely make it to the window, to the unicorn waiting to take him home. He needed to breathe and heal and he couldn't do it inside the castle walls anymore. Of course, he knew when he went home he would be murdered and put into the hospital again, but he didn't care. He needed to be next to the earth, he needed the grass and flowers to welcome him into their embrace, and he needed the cool wind to blow away his pain. He wasn't even sure he wanted to go back.

Did he really want this after all? He was content before, to just sit and wait out the war as a double agent. Well, content, wasn't really the right word. He was actually quite miserable, but it was his promise. Even if he wasn't appreciated or trusted by the Order or by anyone for that matter, even if he was the most hated professor because he was trying to protect them, he was willing to continue working as a spy because he had to. He had to prove that he was worth something. He was worth nothing in his own world so maybe he could make it here.

That obviously didn't go as planned. The Order didn't trust him, they didn't even like him. They were just using him after all. They were willing to let the torture continue week after week, meeting after meeting, failed potion after failed potion, because that's all he was worth. He was nothing more than a tool. Nothing more than a hooked nose, greasy haired, potions professor that was there most valuable weapon in the war. Even Potter, the little golden boy, son of Lily and James Potter, The Boy Who Lived, couldn't see him for what he was worth. All he saw was his façade, his mask, he couldn't even look past that to the good he was doing for the Order.

There was one bright spot to his job though. His students. Gods, he tried so hard to save them. He taught them. He told them almost everything about his life (minus the Demon Prince part and all that jazz) but he told them about falling to the lure of the dark lord and about the fact that he was a death eater and the fact that he was a spy to the Order. Stupid, he knew, but he was willing to let the Voldemort torture him, abuse him, rape him, and kill him if the truth saved even one of his Slytherins. They were his children, his love; he did everything he could to keep them from the same path he chose. And it seemed to have worked. Draco was like a son to him. Obviously not very affectionate or in front of people. But he took care of Draco as his mother asked him to when they joined the ranks. He always hated Lucius, but Draco was special to him.

And then there was Hermione. The stupid little, Gryffindor Girl that made his life hell and pleasure at the same time. Granted, his feelings for her were never more than brotherly. He had a quite fondness of her.

And he thought of all these good things he had here in the human world, but they were all shadowed by something darker. He knew his fate if he returned as a human. He would be tortured, thrown in Azkaban, tortured some more. He could only imagine how they twisted the story so the Golden Boy got the glory (glory that Severus now knew he didn't want or enjoy). But that was the twisted ways of Albus Dumbledore. He couldn't have it that his protégé didn't get the goods in the end. He would twist the story so Severus Snape, double spy for the Dark Lord, would be the traitor in the mists that led the dark lord to Hogwarts doorstep. He couldn't go back to the human world, not if he wanted to live.

But where else is there to go?

The Four Lands?

He scoffed at the very idea.

Return to the Four Lands and be scorned and scoffed for causing the downfall of The Dancing Demon. He didn't hear about what went on there after he left or even after he returned. They "welcomed him with open arms" because they had to. They were probably terrified of him. He knew better than to deny the fact that he could level the city if he wanted to. They probably hated him. It seemed that they were flourishing under the Dancer reign of power. And here comes the Exiled Prince, the boy who ran away 16 years ago because he was too much of a coward to stand up for himself. He ran away because he couldn't protect the people he loved. Any of them, his father, his mother, Sarah … He couldn't even protect the girl he swore he would marry some day, or the girl that he trusted enough to tell everything. He couldn't save her because he was stupid enough to think that he finally found some where he could fit in, but it turns out he was just being used there too.

He was obviously useful. But that's all he's ever been to people. A tool. Nothing more. And the war is over now, so he has become useless. A useless, broken tool that would be thrown into the shed and forgotten about. And that's all he wanted now. To be forgotten.

… … …

It was raining now. The trees only protected him so much, but he didn't care. He could feel his strength growing with each drop of rain. They were like little packets of power pelting his tortured body. They were cooling. He had a fever, but he didn't care, the earth was cradling him with power and the rain was washing his pain away.

The unicorns were watching over him now. They had built him an invisible, magic wall that was filtering the magic coming into him. He couldn't risk contamination from all the dark magic that was running about the forest before.

So he just lay there, sprawled on his back, one arm flung over his eyes. He wore nothing but the pants he left the hospital in. He was almost drenched now, but he felt good. His magic was slowly coming back to him as the surrounding forest nurtured their caretaker. He almost felt bad about leaving without saying anything, but he just wasn't in the mood to talk and argue. He just wanted to be alone, what would they care anyway? Lea would, she was probably the only one. The humans would send him off the first chance they got and the Demons were ready to unwillingly take him home.

He wished he could just stay here, in his little barrier letting the magic swell within him and with the Unicorns as friends. They took good care of him. They didn't frown at him or glare at him or judge him, he was just there to care for the elements and they respected that and took care of him. He might not go home. Maybe he wouldn't have to make the decision of where to go. Human World of Four Lands of the Demons? Torture and imprisonment or unwilling followers and hate? Or … a third option was creeping into his brain. He could choose neither. He knew how to make an escape, he make a third identity. He could go to the muggle world and live there. He was getting tired of magic. He could live as the grumpy old man in the creepy cottage down the road and all the little children would make dares to ring the doorbell.

Maybe his imagination was too vivid.

But the idea was looking nice. Just staying running away from both of them. True exile. He wasn't needed anymore anyway. He'd just leave and make a life someplace else so everyone here could move on and celebrate without him. He was nothing more than a useless tool after all.


	9. He Just Was

Thanks to a wonderful review I got today by, **Charlotte Brandon**, I feel compelled to stick it out and finish. Now as I am in college, my life is hectic and crazy and nutty, so I don't guarantee quick or lengthy updates. But GOD DAMN IT I will update! :D So to those of who have stuck with it, I'm back! I know I've said it before, but the story is almost over. I'm gonna do it this time. 3 You All! This chapter is very short. Just trying to get back into the swing of things. Enjoy!

**Chapter 9**

**He Just Was**

He could hear them now …. Voices calling his name. Calling to him, begging him, pleading with him. He ignored them. As the rain subsided he had felt an urge to move, to run, to do something. He was tired of this stagnant life, of the same endless misery. He was ready to _go_. He was ready to _live_. Call it psychotic, but he was ready for it.

He was honestly impressed by how well his body kept up with his mind. His legs pumped underneath him, sending him hurtling through dense woods and across poisoned streams. His magic was out of control, everywhere he went he trailed his magic alongside him, bringing growth to life, sucking in the poisons of the earth. Not even the unicorn's shield could keep up with him. He was done being powerless. He was done helping from the sidelines. He wanted this. He wanted to feel the poisons being sucked from the earth. He wanted to feel the life blossom around him. He wanted to feel the waves of the thanks suffocate his being as he died from the inside.

He just kept going. He wanted to fly. He wanted to sprout his black, tattered wings and fly. He wanted freedom. He wanted choice.

He was going crazy and he knew it. He didn't care. He was beyond caring, beyond emotions, beyond reasoning. He just was. He was the raw emotion, the power, the everything the earth could take from him or give to him.

He just was.

~.~.~.~

She was lost. She was scared. She didn't know what to do anymore. The woods around her were silent. It was easy to see where he had gone, leaving the path of life and cleansing light behind him. But she couldn't keep up, none of them could. And it was just so quiet.

He could be right behind her and she would never know. Always quiet. Always brooding. Always thinking. She wanted him back. She wanted him here and now. She had lost him once and now she was afraid she was losing him again, but not to any war or evil villain, she was losing him to himself.

She was lost.

"Where is he?" Her voice was so meek, so naïve. She had no idea what they were looking for.

"We don't know, Ms. Granger."

"How will we find him …"

"We won't …"

"But –."

"Don't you get it, Ms. Granger?" The sharpness in the older women's words through her off, "don't you see?" The wet rolled down her cheeks, "he doesn't want to be found. He's done."

~.~.~.~

And in that moment, black wings unfurled, the dark figure hurtled off the edge. Wind caught feathers, sunlight shown down on pail face. A content smile on his lips. And somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that she knew that his decision was made.

As he plummeted towards the rocky shore and water below, her heart was constricting in her chest. His eyes were closed in anticipation. The wind picked up and roared through their ears.

They were falling.

He had chosen.

He just was.


End file.
